Creeping Around Your Dreams
by Neo Nobody
Summary: No. I didn't think he'd be this broken when I got back. No. He should be fine. He should have been happy! WHY IS HE LIKE THIS? Reunion! RIPYOURFUCKINGHEARTOUT!John - his tulpa gets a little bit too real. When Sherlock gets back after finishing off the Web, how is he supposed to heal this? Johnlock, surprise ending! Depending on reviews, maybe a two-shot, but for now, one-shot.


Every six months since I jumped off St. Bart's, I've changed my hairstyle. This time I'd gone for short auburn hair. It's been three years. Three years tonight.  
I touched my lips one last time before walking confidently through the door. Everyone who lived in the flats were asleep. Flat 121c loomed over me, the immaculate door seeming somehow ominous.  
These are the only times I grant myself the pleasure of my old life.  
I crept across the floorboards, trying to ignore the deductions flying through my mind. It wasn't wanted, it was just normal for me. I flicked my eyes over the table and I saw the rings that tea makes, the quiet- no. No. Shut up, Holmes.  
_Shut up._  
That's not important right now.  
That's not why I'm here.  
Mycroft, Molly, Lestrade... they had all told me it was going to be hard, and after four days Mycroft asked me if it was time to go home.  
No, of course not. I hadn't clipped every string connecting to Moriarty.  
Last night I did, I killed Moran. And now I just... don't know.  
I walked through the flat, getting to the bedroom door. I eased it open, knowing it wouldn't creek.  
Inside was a spotless cream room, and a loud muffled song was playing through headphones on the bed, along with my John.  
My John, who can't even sleep soundly anymore.  
I walked over to the rocking chair and sat down. I had a while before John would wake up, so I might as well make myself comfortable. So I got back up and went to the kitchen, and made myself a nice cup of tea. When it was done, I walked back through the living room to the bedroom.  
I opened the door and a gun was in my face.  
"Who are you and what are you doing in my flat," John spat. Then he took a double take.  
"John, I think you know who I am." I took a sip from my cup of tea, and took a step forward as John's hand wavered.  
"_No._" John said harshly, squeezing his eyes closed. "No. No no, you're just in my _HEAD!"_ John screamed suddenly, the gun already steady and now at my throat.  
I suddenly got scared.  
Over these three years, did John start to believe those lies? Didn't he see? Didn't he _see_ what Moriarty did? To me? To us?  
"No, John, I'm real," I said in as calm a tone as I could muster. I hoped it sounded a lot calmer than it did to me. "I am so sorry. I had to protect you," John's eyes widened.  
"You've never said that before," John said, his words slurring slightly.  
"What do I normally say?" I asked, trying to calm John.  
"You don't look like you normally do," John continued, ignoring me. He was staring at my new hair which brought out my miniscule freckles. He then took one hand off the gun and in one swift movement, he grabbed my wrist, and my tea fell to the floor with a resounding _clinka-chink_ as it broke into little pieces. He inspected my hand, bringing each finger to his face as if he expected claws to come out and scratch at him.  
I watched him silently as he examined every inch of my hand, wrist, and arm.  
He mumbled something unintelligible then.  
"What?" I asked softly, trying to be cautious with him. Don't want the gun back in my face.  
"WHERE ARE YOUR CLAWS!" he shouted suddenly. "WHERE IS THE BLOOD WHERE ARE YOUR RED EYES WHERE ARE YOUR FANGS WHERE IS THE BEAST! THIS IS EVEN WORSE THAN BEFORE!" John threw the gun across the room and stepped back, throwing his hands in the air. "MORIARTY! I'VE HAD ENOUGH! WITH THE BEAST I KNEW IT WASN'T SHERLOCK! BUT NOW YOU GIVE ME SOMETHING THAT ACTUALLY LOOKS LIKE HIM! GODDAMN IT WHY DIDN'T YOU JUST FUCKING KILL ME IN THAT MOTHERFUCKING POOL!"  
I stood in stunned silence. Had John imagined me as a beast in the years I was gone?  
"JOHN, John, I'm real, I'm not a beast, I'm real, I'm _alive!_" I told him, reaching out and grabbing his shoulders.  
John looked me in the eyes. He seemed so tired, so worn, so alone. The only thing I could think of right then was the way John's shoulder was obviously thinner than it was three years ago. His scar was puckered, and his eyes were glazed over, as if he wasn't in the same world I was. Now that I was paying attention to John, I noticed his bones were prominent beneath his skin. His face seemed sunken, and he was pale. God, he was so pale.  
John then stiffened under my grasp and stared off into the corner of the room, fear in every feature on his face.  
"It's _here..._" he whispered, his head lightly tipping back as if something or someone very tall was walking closer and closer to him and to keep eye contact, he had to look up. His eyes flickered with fear. "Sherl- Sherlock, please no, no not tonight, not- no- please!" he stood terrified, his entire body shaking.  
John grunted and his body moved like he had been punched in the stomach. It took me less than ten seconds to throw myself in between John and whatever was in his mind. I almost violently shook John, trying to get him to the "real world". In that second, one memory was spinning through my head.

"… _but the princess wouldn't wake up, no matter how hard her prince shook her. She wouldn't wake up until the one she loved kissed her on the lips. The prince was desperate, and thought he had lost his love forever. So in a goodbye gesture, he took her face in his hands and he kissed her softly. Her eyes fluttered open, and they lived happily ever after. Sher, the best way to be woken up is to be kissed awake by the one you love. Sleep well, sweetheart."_

My mother. I'm desperate right now. Maybe this'll work. Maybe it won't. Fuck it I'm desperate.

"JOHN, I'm sorry if you don't want this," I said quickly, grabbing John's face just enough to force him to look at me. I lunged in and kissed him passionately, letting every year of stress wear away.

I opened my eyes slightly as we broke form our kiss, and I saw John watching on it disbelief at something I couldn't see. His eyes softened, and they were almost back to normal John.

"It's gone," he whispered, before grabbing at my shirt to pull me into a hug. "It's gone."

I hugged him back tightly. "I'm sorry, John, I am so sorry for all of that. I just couldn't put you in danger, so I had to disappear. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

"Sherlock, Sherlock Sherlock Sherlock," John chanted softly, and I felt a small smile form on his lips against my shoulder. I smiled back.

"Dinner?" John kissed my shoulder and nodded.

"Starving," he responded, getting up off the floor with me.

_But as the two boys walked out of the flat, they didn't hear the chirp of a new text on John's phone._

_**Ready for round two?**_

_**Jimmy xxx**_


End file.
